


Ain’t No Sunshine

by Capriccio



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, On the Search for Bucky, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: Civil War, Sam Wilson is a Gift, Steve Rogers Feels, This is a Happy Fic!, on your left
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 08:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5862766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capriccio/pseuds/Capriccio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thought I was the one supposed to be babysitting your ass, not the other way around,” Sam said. He huddled down into the thin blanket. </p><p>“At least it beats the marshmallow beds.” Steve reached over to give Sam his own blanket from his bedroll and was rewarded with another glare, but no outward protest.</p><p>(For the prompt, <i>Steve/Sam, huddling for warmth.</i>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain’t No Sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [significantowl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/significantowl/gifts).



> Title taken from Bill Withers’ "Ain’t No Sunshine".

Steve looked up from the photocopy of the photocopy that served them as a map, hearing Sam’s grunt as he shoved the door open with his shoulder. Sam stomped inside the outpost, bringing a rush of cold air and several flakes of snow with him. The ice building on the doorjambs scraped loudly as Sam closed the door behind him, and Steve tried not to wince at the sound, keeping his finger on the map to mark the mountain path he’d been scouting.

“Perimeter’s secure. I think everyone that’s left went underground—or maybe worse,” Sam said, huffing air. He eased off his goggles and outerwear carefully, draping his clothing over their makeshift chair to dry.

Steve glanced at Sam’s shivering form, eyeing the ice crystals that had formed on his eyelashes and beard. “Don’t think anyone’ll be out tonight. I’ll take first watch,” Steve said, and reached down to toss Sam one of the musty smelling blankets from the heaps that served them as bedding. “Go get some rest.”

Sam caught the blanket easily and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Not if I don’t want to wake up a popsicle. Gotta warm up a bit first,” he said. He began jumping up and down in place, his breath coming out in short puffs that turned to mist in the chilly air. “No wonder this place was abandoned. Think leaving these posts unheated was part of some training regime to weed out the weak? ‘Cause I never would have lasted five minutes out here after basic.”

“Maybe,” Steve said. Raising his eyebrows, he inclined his head toward the door. “Speaking of basic, weather’s not too bad for a run,” he said nonchalantly. “If you’re up for it.”

Sam stopped hopping in place to glare at him. “Funny. I read your file. The serum’s supposed to make good things better and bad things worse, right? That include your sense of humor?”

Steve winced, laughing, and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Bucky would’ve liked you,” he said, then blinked hard. “ _Will_ like you.” He smoothed out the map and bent over it again with determination.

“I’m going to have a thing or two to tell him when we get him back,” Sam said over a yawn that made his jaws crack.

Steve felt a flash of warmth at Sam’s words. _When_ , not _if_. “Come on,” he said. “You bunker down and I’ll make sure no monsters come knocking on the door.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at him, but gingerly lowered himself down on his bedroll. “Thought I was the one supposed to be babysitting your ass, not the other way around,” he said. He huddled down into the thin blanket. 

“At least it beats the marshmallow beds,” Steve said, and turned to carefully put away the map. He glanced back at the bedroll to see Sam shaking with cold, the blanket tucked up to his chin. 

Sam caught his look and huffed a breath. He sat up in his bedroll and hunched into himself. “Damn, that floor is cold. You don’t feel it?”

Shrugging, Steve shook his head. “The serum takes care of that,” he said. He looked up at the ceiling, warily eyeing the rafters that shook violently with the wind. “Looks like you're right, though—they probably spent more on weapons and training their soldiers than on infrastructure,” he continued, trying to joke. His words fell flat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Sam drew in a breath noisily. “That anti-freeze in the serum probably upped the costs a lot, too,” he said. “At least you know he’s warm, too, wherever he is.”

Steve smiled, the feeling of loss washed away. “Guess so,” he said. “Here, let me get you another blanket.” He reached over to give Sam his own blanket from his bedroll and was rewarded with another glare, but no outward protest. Steve fought back a grin as he sat next to Sam, patronizingly wrapping it around him and carefully folding in the edges. “All tucked in?”

Sam rolled his eyes and knocked his shoulder against Steve’s. “Thanks, man.” He didn’t move away, so Steve settled down more comfortably against him. “Huh,” Sam continued, eyeing Steve with a touch of envious wonder. “You’re like a _furnace_. Kind of wondered why you went running in a t-shirt in the early morning, other than to show off and make grown men cry.”

Steve laughed, knocking Sam’s shoulder gently back with his. “You get cold sometimes?” _How?_ he didn’t ask.

Sam snorted. “Why’d you think I signed up? Deserts, man. Sunshine and open skies. Burn you clean through till there’s nothing left. Felt damn good. But I never got used to the nights there.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, musing. “I got cold, too. I don’t miss it.”

“Guess a few decades under the ice wasn’t enough to get used to it?” Sam said, his voice teasing.

Rolling his eyes, Steve tried to move in a little closer. Sam was _still_ shivering. “No, not really. But I meant back in Brooklyn. I’d get cold. Couldn’t stop shivering. Even breathing was hard—felt like I had ice in my lungs. Sometimes Bucky would bundle me up in blankets and practically sit on me until I stopped shaking.”

“Nice of him. Guess it’s time you paid it forward, then,” Sam said, lifting the blanket from one of his shoulders. He held his arm out in an invitation. “Come on, share the love.”

Feeling his cheeks heat, Steve moved closer still, and squirmed as he felt Sam’s hand drop around his shoulder, making sure they were sharing the blanket equally. It could’ve felt awkward, but it felt right. Felt good.

Steve tried to look away, but Sam was right there, watching him intently. His mouth was curving into a smile, the depths of his eyes calming the storm in Steve’s heart. Steve leaned in closer, feeling himself pulled, as always, toward Sam.

“Normally I’d say something about you slacking off on your watch, but like you said, no one’s going to be out in this weather, part robot or not. Can’t think of anything you’d rather do?” Sam asked, his voice warm. Steve flinched slightly, but Sam laughed out loud, his eyes lighting up. “No wonder you run so hot, blushing like that all the time.”

Steve stayed completely still, looking back at him wordlessly, but Sam was always so good at reading him and listening to everything Steve could never say. Closing the space between them, Sam slowly leaned forward. Steve held his breath and waited.

“Seriously? I gotta be the one to do it? Fine. Figures you’d be a coward about something,” Sam said, his voice quiet but full of laughter, soothing Steve’s nerves. Sam flicked his eyes down to Steve’s mouth and lingered there, making Steve’s breath catch. His heartbeat hammering loudly in his ears, Steve let Sam touch his lips slowly, gently, to his.

Everything fell away, surrounding them into a comforting silence, the two of them together in the eye of the storm. Steve shivered and kissed Sam back, his hands reaching to the back of Sam’s head to hold him still, his body moving before thought. And Steve had no idea why Sam was ever cold, because he was warm, _warm_ all over, sharing it and giving it so freely like he did with everything else. Steve felt it spread throughout his body—he couldn’t remember what it felt like to be cold with the taste of Sam’s kiss on his lips. He let Sam’s warmth wash over him and chase the cold away, feeling it seep through and into every part of him.

Sam pulled back gently after a moment, and Steve couldn’t help the smile he could feel breaking out on his face, not with the heat of Sam’s touch still lingering through him.

“What are you smiling about?” Sam asked, and he was a damn one to talk because it was his smile that lit up the room, cutting through the blandness of the never-ending ice and snow, spilling like sunlight into Steve’s world.

“I was thinking about Natasha,” Steve said, trying to school his face into something more somber but couldn’t quite manage it, his smile breaking out again with no control, mirroring Sam’s.

Sam’s eyes widened comically, then narrowed at him. He smacked Steve lightly on the chest with one hand. “Seriously?”

Steve winced and rubbed the place where Sam touched him—warm, still so warm—in mock pain. “She was wondering if I’d kissed anyone since 1945. She said I could use some practice.”

Sam gave him a flat look. “Uh-huh. Let me tell you, that’s not what a guy wants to hear after he’s laid one on you.”

Steve said, his voice low, “I was also thinking I could tell her to stop looking for a date for me.”

A pause. “She’s busy doing other things, yeah,” Sam said, nodding slowly. “But she’s right—you could probably use some more practice.”

“She usually is,” Steve admitted, and pulled Sam into another kiss, sharing the gift of all the warmth he’d been given.


End file.
